


The First Night

by ancientcitylullaby



Category: Macbeth - Shakespeare, SHAKESPEARE William - Works
Genre: Crying, Everyone Is Alive, First Kiss, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Injury, LGBTQ Themes, Love, Love Confessions, M/M, Romance, Sort Of, Young Love, but besides that, except theres some crying, its soft and cute, no one dies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-12
Updated: 2019-07-12
Packaged: 2020-06-27 04:28:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19783261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ancientcitylullaby/pseuds/ancientcitylullaby
Summary: What's up? This pairing needs some fluff.





	The First Night

Lying here was all Macbeth could’ve ever wanted.

Next to the noble Thane of Lochaber, limbs intertwined, resting his head on the other man’s chest. The air felt still, and he wished not to make the wrong move so to destroy this perfect moment. Still he lay there, feeling the rise and fall of his companion’s breathing. It was comforting.

They had just returned from battle and Macbeth was spending a night at Lochaber before returning home to Glamis. These were the nights he cherished, those rare nights he could find himself in bed with this man, though they didn’t do anything this particular night; Macbeth was nursing an injured leg, and they figured more... strenuous activities could be left to another day. 

Banquo found himself gently stroking Macbeth’s hair. The man laying with him murmured something, maybe nothing, maybe simply a sound of contentment. Well, he always did love someone playing with his hair. 

“How’s your leg?” Banquo asked softly.

“Hurts, but I’ve had worse,” mumbled the Thane of Glamis. As a response to this, Banquo pressed a soft kiss to the other man’s forehead. 

“We’re okay now right? We survived, we won,” he said. 

Macbeth faintly nodded in response, prompting the other man to kiss him again. He couldn’t help but smile. Surely everything would be alright if Banquo was here. 

They lay there a while, ‘til the both of them fell asleep. Macbeth’s mind ran back to several years before, when he hadn’t yet admitted his feelings for his best friend. 

When they were young, barely twenty and twenty one at the time, still in training for the army, Macbeth remembered a time not unlike this one, where he was staying over at Lochaber, he couldn’t quite remember why, but he visited here often, just for the sake of it, probably just to see his friend. 

“Beth,” Banquo has said, calling him by the same nickname he used to this very day. “You seemed different today. Why?”

“Different how?” Macbeth shifted a little, avoiding eye contact. He didn’t want to explain how his father had been watching him with such a close eye lately, how he stared at Macbeth when he got too close to Banquo and how the ever present question was on his lips, but Macbeth swore there was nothing between them, surely Banquo would never do such a thing. How his father scolded him to be more of a man, that he shouldn’t be so weak, that a man shouldn’t cry….

It made him feel sick in a way, what his father must think of him now. And it was killing him, sitting so close to Banquo on that bed, because horrible as it was, it seemed he did have feelings for him. 

Banquo looked over at his friend, who was looking so unsure. He knew he had felt that way before. Most of all when he was thirteen, crushing madly on another young boy, not knowing yet that such things were forbidden, not understanding why his father’s eyes grew cold and his mother turned away in shame. His father had never been one to beat his children, but that day was an exception. Banquo didn’t forget that lesson for a good many years, ‘til his parents died and Macbeth walked into his life. He hoped heaven or hell would give him the courage to do what he was about to do.

“Why so sad, Beth?” He asked, brushing his thumb over his friend’s hand. Macbeth started, but not because he didn’t want this, but because he was afraid, in some way. 

“Come, let’s get some air.” Banquo said. “To the balcony?”

“Y-yeah,” Macbeth managed to say. 

Outside, all was quite serene. The land below was dark and green, a distant row of trees on the horizon marking the start of a forest. The moon and stars above illuminated the land just enough, and the nervous expression of the young Glamis. 

They sat on the stone bench, and Macbeth could feel the eyes of the stars burning into him. He wished they would look away, that they would be blown out, that they would stop watching him. 

“What’s troubling you, Beth?” Banquo asked. “What’s really troubling you?”

Macbeth shook his head. “It’s nothing.” More than anything he wanted to tell Banquo everything, how he thought he was incredibly handsome and kind and smart and how maybe, maybe he liked him more than he ever should, maybe he liked him more than he liked any woman, and in the same way he was supposed to like women, but he didn’t, he couldn’t. 

Banquo had seen the way Macbeth looked at him, every day they were together. He hoped to whatever power would stand by him that he was right. He was willing to try something. 

“Beth,” he asked, looking suddenly unsure. “Is there anyone you have your eye on? Romantically, I mean.”

Macbeth swallowed hard. He fought back tears, no, his father told him never to cry, it wasn’t becoming of a young man—

It was shocking to him then, when Banquo hugged him. And he cried harder because he wanted this man more than anything….

“Beth, what’s wrong?” He asked again, softly.

Macbeth couldn’t get a word in through the sobs.

“Beth, did I ever tell you about my first crush?” 

“N-no… who was she?”

Banquo took a deep breath. “He.” He finally said.

Macbeth felt his head spin. Banquo was—? No no, now this made everything he wanted possible and he just couldn’t take this right now… no….

He wanted him so badly. But he couldn’t.

“H-he?” He choked out. 

Banquo looked nervous. “Sorry, I probably shouldn’t have said that… I don’t know what’s come over me…. please don’t tell anyone—…”

“No…” Macbeth interrupted. “Banquo what if….”  
He took several pauses.  
“What if…. I’ve liked men, before… too….”

It took everything in him to get out those few words. Even then his pulse was racing and his stomach turned.

“I… Oh…” Banquo looked surprised, almost relieved. 

“P-please don’t tell anyone, don’t tell my father…” Macbeth pleaded, finding himself squeezing Banquo’s hand. “I don’t know what I’d do if he…”

Banquo hushed him. “Of course I won’t tell. It’s a secret I’m keeping as well. I wouldn’t do that to you. I know what it’s like.” Uneasily, his mind flashed back to when his own father had found out. His face still stung from the memory.

“Thank you….” Macbeth said quietly. Oh no, he couldn’t cry again now… no….  
To his surprise, he found his friend used his thumb to wipe away his tears. Something about this calmed him. 

He caught Banquo studying his face then, the other man’s hand still resting upon his cheek. Macbeth could feel his face grow hot. 

“Macbeth,” Banquo said, “I have to tell you something, but I don’t know the words to say it.” 

“W-What do you want to tell me…?” Macbeth stuttered. 

And then, he knew. 

The kiss sent him into shock, he was sure his face was burning red, but god this was… this was good…. no he didn’t want him to stop… 

This was the man he had been in love with for nearly a year now… this was… and he felt the same way… and my god he was good at this…..  
Macbeth had kissed a woman before, but this was…. different. A good different. 

They pulled away, and he gasped. 

“Banquo—“ the dazed look on Macbeth’s face spoke volumes. That was all he could manage to say.

“I-I’ve had my eye on you for a while now, Beth.” Banquo finally explained, looking down at the ground, almost shyly. I wasn’t sure if you felt the same way… but judging by how you kissed me, I think I know the answer.”

“Yes I… yes… my god I think I’m in love with you.” Macbeth said, and maybe he was shaking. 

“I… wow I can’t believe…” Banquo said, and then pulled him close and hugged him, and he was trembling with what Macbeth wasn’t sure was laughter or sobbing but then he heard the other man’s laughter and by god he had such a cute laugh….

“We’re okay,” he finally said, “It’s gonna be okay.”

And something deep inside Macbeth, as he threw his arms around Banquo, believed he was right.

…...

They had been together for years now. Macbeth found himself once again in the present, that same young man who had kissed him on the balcony was now grown, his hair was longer and his beard had grown in, but it was still the same man he had fallen in love with all those years ago. He couldn’t believe he had found something so perfect, someone whose heart seemed to fit so neatly with his…. 

He remembered the pain in his leg, but it seemed like an afterthought right now. It did mean he would probably have to lean on Banquo in order to walk, but… he didn’t mind that so much.

“Banquo…” he whispered, unsure if the other man would hear, or if he was even awake. 

To his surprise, he answered. “Yes, love?” There it was. Those affectionate nicknames he loved being called.

“I love you.” Macbeth whispered. Years ago that little phrase would’ve caused him so much anxiety, but now it felt natural, and right. It sparked a warmth in his heart he couldn’t quite describe. 

Banquo smiled, still half in the daze of sleep.  
“I love you too,” he said.


End file.
